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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019089">Draw Your Gun Now and End Your Tale</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_random_Ravenclaw/pseuds/The_random_Ravenclaw'>The_random_Ravenclaw</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Raven's mechs album week 2021 fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>High Noon Over Camelot - The Mechanisms (Album), The Mechanisms (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Battle of the Camlann Wastes, Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt No Comfort, Mechs Album Week, Mordred is not having a good time, Murder, Suicidal Ideation, kind of, my working title was "I am sad about Mordred" and I think that sums it up pretty well</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:22:30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,991</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30019089</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_random_Ravenclaw/pseuds/The_random_Ravenclaw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>One shot.</em>
</p><p>  <em>That was all it took to end Mordred’s world. One bullet, shooting out of Gawain’s gun, and suddenly everything he’d ever worked for was in ruins.</em></p><p>Or: Peacemaker from Mordred's point of view</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Raven's mechs album week 2021 fics [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Mechs Album Week</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Draw Your Gun Now and End Your Tale</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is written for HNOC day of Mechs Album Week and I wanted to write Mordred angst because I'm sad about him way too often. Do you ever think about the fact that he never saw the scorpion so he thought Gawain just shot without a reason? Because I do and it makes peacemaker even sadder (It's still slaps though, I think it's my favourite mechs song). Enjoy the angst (it made me sad every time I edited it so I think I succeeded)!</p><p>Content warnings (I think these are the big ones, tell me if I should add something):<br/>Gun violence<br/>Lots of death, blood, corpses and murder (not very graphic, but still)<br/>Suicidal ideation (Mordred doesn't care whether he lives or dies)</p><p>Title from Peacemaker bc what else would I do?</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>One shot.</p><p>That was all it took to end Mordred’s world. One bullet, shooting out of Gawain’s gun, and suddenly everything he’d ever worked for was in ruins. He’d been so close to making it, the station had been so close to choosing friendship over war, but it didn’t work. </p><p>Both sides are preparing to fight and there’s no way to turn it back and hold peace talks now. There’s blood from the Saxon that Gawain shot on Mordred’s shoes, dark red pinpricks colouring the worn leather. It’s the calm before the storm and the world seems to hold its breath.</p><p>How had he been so stupid? Of course it wasn’t going to work. How could he ever have thought that the people of this station would see sense and understand how beneficial peace would be for both sides? To try something new and better? There was so much to gain and now it’s all lost.</p><p>Maybe it’s because Gawain is leading them. He couldn’t set aside his lust for violence to think rationally for a second and even before this Mordred thought that if someone was to gleefully start a war against the Saxons it would be him. Mordred should have known this would happen, he ran Camelot with Gawain while the Pendragons were away. It’s all his fault for not seeing how impossible peace is when hatred and prejudice is all people know. </p><p>Trying for peace and unity had been a mistake, but how could he leave the chance he’d been waiting for ever since he left Annwn? Giving up hadn’t even been an option, but trying only led him here, to the frontline of the war he tried to prevent.</p><p>Mordred helplessly watches, almost in slow-motion, as more bullets are fired, as the Saxons draw their knives and advance towards the townsfolk. They’re outnumbered and their weapons have shorter range, so they have to gain advantage fast if there’s to be any hope for survival. He can’t blame them for fighting, but it means there’s no stopping the bloodshed sure to take place.</p><p>Mordred led them here, led them right to their destruction. The whole thing is quite ironic actually. The townsfolk hadn’t believed the Saxons capable of reason, yet it was they who shot before giving parley a try. Sadly, irony doesn’t change the fact that the armies, if you can call them that, are drawing closer and closer. The smell of gunpowder fills the air.</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll defend you to my dying breath.”</em>
</p><p>His own words from earlier echo in his mind and Mordred makes his decision. It is with a heavy heart that he grips the pistol in his holster tight and draws it. He’s fallen slightly behind the Saxons, just watching as all he ever hoped for crumbled into dust right in front of his eyes, but with a newfound determination he casts himself into the fray. Maybe it isn’t even determination, just sheer desperation. He’s given up all hope for a future and there are no other options than fighting his final battle. </p><p>It’s his fault the Saxons came here and he swore to protect them. So he will fight against the people he’s lived with for the past decade or so, the people he’s technically still in charge of, the people he thought friends. Some of them at least.</p><p>Killing doesn’t come easy to Mordred, but he does it anyways. What else is there to do? He wished for peace, but with both Saxons and townsfolk dying like flies, there’s no hope for unity anymore. There’s no future past this battle, nowhere to run to, nobody who will take him in afterwards. Both Camelot and Annwn are likely to reject him though he’d only ever wanted the best for both. There’s only this bloodshed that shows the station’s true colour: Red, like blood and rust and the jagged shards of broken dreams.</p><p>So Mordred takes aim and fires. The baker. One of Gawain’s friends. Someone he doesn’t recognise. The man who runs the saloon. Another stranger. Their faces blur together as Mordred fires and fires and fires and fires. Some keep going after they’re hit, others don’t. He doesn’t keep count. </p><p>Most are ordinary people, people he talked to while he lived in Camelot. They aren’t at fault for this, but they’re killing those that Mordred swore to protect and there is nothing else to do. Killing gets easier and easier as his heart grows number, but every pull of the trigger still makes him ache inside.</p><p>Tears blur his vision and when he tries to wipe them away, his hand comes away red. There’s blood on his hands now, both metaphorically and literally. There are so many bodies on the ground, so many dead because of him and it hurts worse than anything he could ever have imagined. Everything is his fault.</p><p>The townsfolk have caught on to the fact that Mordred is no longer on their side, no longer their leader. There’s betrayal written on their faces, a pained expression Mordred doesn’t know how to handle. So he shoots instead. </p><p>Some of them shoot back and he knows it should hurt, knowing that the people he’s lived among are trying to kill him. But he chose a side and it’s not theirs, so how much does it matter? His heart is already broken, bleeding out into the rust and there is no room for more hurt left. Tears are flowing freely down his face now.</p><p>There’s movement on his right side and Mordred jumps away just in time to avoid the seax slashing where he stood just a moment ago. A young Saxon with hatred in her eyes stares back at him when he turns around. He thought it was impossible to feel worse than he already did, but the sight makes his heart sink even further. He looks at her with a mix of sadness and sympathy. It is no wonder the Saxons blame him too, but he’d hoped they wouldn’t show it.</p><p>“I’m sorry” is all he manages to get out. It’s not nearly enough and they both know it. There are no words that could be enough.</p><p>“You led us here.” Her voice holds so much hatred and Mordred knows he deserves it. </p><p>“That I did. I thought there was more to this world than violence and hatred, but it was a foolish hope”</p><p>Her expression softens a little, but not much. “I wanted to kill you for doing this to us”</p><p>“Then do it,” he says softly. He has nothing left to live for and it wouldn’t be a worse death than the one he’ll eventually suffer on this battlefield. Somehow he knows this day will be his last. It might even give the young Saxon a sense of bringing justice to the world, killing the man that caused the battle. If there ever was something like justice in the first place. It surprises him how easily he accepts his own death.</p><p>“Wanted is in past tense. I think that letting you live with the guilt will hurt far worse.”</p><p>Mordred doesn’t know what to say, so he remains silent. Hearing it out loud feels like a gut punch, but he knows it’s true. He doesn’t deserve even the sweet relief of death.</p><p>“Remember me, and remember what you did to us,” she says to him, voice filled with all her grief and anger. The she turns away. He wants to stare after her and watch her disappear, but there’s a man trying to attack him from the other side and Mordred has to take care of him first. When he turns back a second later she’s gone and he’s filled with an ache he cannot name. He doubts he’ll ever forget her last words, not that he’ll live for much longer anyways.</p><p>Bleeding corpses of both human and ghoul cover the ground around him, but the battle is still raging on. The Saxons are fighting viciously, wielding their seaxes and cutting down the people of Camelot without any mercy. Someone like Gawain, someone like most of the townsfolk might take this as a sign the Saxons know nothing but bloodshed, but Mordred knows they’re wrong. </p><p>He thinks of Morgan, the Saxon woman who took pity on him and raised him the best she could and the other Saxons who begrudgingly accepted him though Morgan had to fight hard for it. He thinks of his adopted brother and wonders if he’s still alive. He thinks of the well-organised society he grew up in and the respect offered to the dead. Nobody will be around to hold wakes for those fallen in this battle. The Saxons are so much more than the violent ghouls the townsfolk think they are and now they’ll never know how wrong they were.</p><p>Over the sounds of gunfire, screams and ripping flesh he can hear a vicious laughter. Without even looking, he knows it’s Gawain. Mordred can’t understand how someone can revel in bloodshed like that and hold no sympathy for the other side. How blind must one be to see no shades of grey, just the bright red of hatred? A world divided in two like Gawain’s must be an empty one and somewhere deep inside, Mordred feels the slightest sting of sadness for him. It’s typical, isn’t it? He can’t even fully hate the man that destroyed all he ever dreamt of. </p><p>There are bullets whining past his head and Mordred ducks, then fires a few shots towards the source. Why he’s still trying to survive is a mystery, maybe it’s just instinct. One of the bullets nicks his arm and the wound stings, but it’s nothing compared to the heavy weight of living with the knowledge that there’s nothing on this rotten station worth saving anymore. </p><p>Galahad might have thought the G.R.A.I.L. could save them, but what use is there in saving the station from a fiery death when there’s nothing on it worth saving in the first place? Might as well let the station fall into the flames and end the hate.</p><p>He used to think there was still hope, that they could come together and build something better. Turn the trend of gradual decay and build something prosperous from the ashes of the long dead society who built this station. He should’ve seen that there was no hope from the beginning. Just as rust corrupted the station itself, the people on it had gone rotten. No effort can save those who are already doomed. </p><p>The people here were lost to the call of violence long ago and he will make them pay for not making him see it earlier. He thought they could be more, but he was wrong and now everyone suffers for it. People will continue to suffer from the hatred as long as there are any left alive, Mordred is sure of it now. Then better make the suffering quick by ending it now.</p><p>The battle rages on all around him, but Mordred works his way out of the fighting and towards Camelot. He’s got no idea what to do, but he knows he can end this once and for all, and something at the back of his mind tells him that Camelot is the right place to search. </p><p>As he walks away from the battle, he turns around one last time. The rusty Camlann wastes are covered in blood and bodies, starkly illuminated by the fluorescent sun. Those still fighting cast black shadows on the ground. Screams mingle with gunfire and Gawain’s laughter as Saxons fall before his pistols. </p><p>It’s no worthy burial site, but it’ll have to do. Soon there will be none left alive to care. Mordred has no idea how he can be so sure of that, but with one final glance at the battlefield he turns away and continues towards the small town. They will pay.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading! As usual, please consider leaving kudos or a comment if you liked it &lt;3</p><p>You can find me on tumblr <a href="https://www.tumblr.com/blog/therandomravenclw">@therandomravenclw</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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